


Drowning In Blue

by Gilbird14



Category: I Medici | Medici: Masters of Florence (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beach, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, It's 30 degrees Celsius outside so it's okay to post summer stuff don't judge me, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 15:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20817344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilbird14/pseuds/Gilbird14
Summary: It was an enjoyable day at beach. The Sun was shining, but it wasn't too hot. Not that Francesco cared that much. He was safe from the Sun's touch under his beach umbrella. The breeze was pleasant, which meant the sand wouldn't get on his towel. But again, Francesco didn't care about that either since he was enjoying his book on a very comfortable sunbed. The sound of the waves washing the shore was music to his ears. He needed to keep his mind away from the bank's business and Francesco knew he picked the perfect day to come to do so. He was finally starting to relax, when some shouts and splashes interrupted his much awaited moment.





	Drowning In Blue

It was an enjoyable day at beach. The Sun was shining, but it wasn't too hot. Not that Francesco cared that much. He was safe from the Sun's touch under his beach umbrella. The breeze was pleasant, which meant the sand wouldn't get on his towel. But again, Francesco didn't care about that either since he was enjoying his book on a very comfortable sunbed. The sound of the waves washing the shore was music to his ears. He needed to keep his mind away from the bank's business and Francesco knew he picked the perfect day to come to do so. He was finally starting to relax, when some shouts and splashes interrupted his much awaited moment.  
  
There were five rowdy boys playing with a ball not far away. Damn his luck. He had almost achieved the mental state he desired, but no, some fools had to disturb his peace. He was glaring at the ball so hard as if he could make it combust or disappear with just wishing so. Then, he saw it. The mass of blond hair he despised so much. Of course. Of course, it had to be Giuliano de Medici who ruined Francesco's day. And, if Giuliano was there, it meant that the excuse of an artist he called friend would be there too, but it also meant that Lorenzo would be there as well. Francesco didn't know exactly why, but he ended up looking for the older Medici till he found him, instead on focusing his death glare on Giuliano.  
  
Francesco was glad he was wearing sunglasses. With them on, nobody could tell if he was actually reading the book or not. He was safe from prying eyes. Lorenzo was more toned than Francesco expected. He knew for a fact that Giuliano was more muscle than brain, so his good shape didn't surprise him much. But Lorenzo? He didn't seem so fit when he wore those shirts at the bank meetings. Did he gain those muscles just because summer was coming or was he always like that and Francesco didn't notice? Well, he shouldn't mind. He wasn't in a poor condition either. He was more than proud with his body. So, he didn't need to be envious of Lorenzo. That's what it was, right?  
  
Francesco tried to go back to his beloved book more than a couple times. He really did, but he couldn't concentrate anymore. The noise created by the Medici brothers and their friends was too loud for him to ignore. So, Francesco went back to observe their behavior, but never blowing his cover. He could tell that Sandro and Poliziano (he didn't know his first name) were not very good at playing whatever game they were all playing. The Soderini kid (he didn't remember his name either) wasn't half bad, but it was clear that the aces were the Medici brothers. In that moment, Giuliano scored a point almost effortlessly. If Francesco was being honest, he couldn't stand Giuliano's triumphant cocky grin. Sandro looked between pissed and joking when he splashed the blond Medici and the latter ended up completely soaked. That started a mini-war among the boys. He heard Lorenzo's characteristic laughter and Francesco couldn't help focusing his eyes on him. He was throwing water to his brother, but also receiving splashes from the Soderini kid. Anyone could tell by the expression on his face that he was having a great time. He was laughing widely with his eyes closed. Since when did Lorenzo sparkle so much? Since when did he shine brighter than the Sun? Francesco tried to erase that thought from his mind, but failed miserably. Lorenzo always thrived in the light, whereas he preferred the dark. It had always been like this. He couldn't change it and he wouldn't if he could. But, the younger Pazzi wondered how it would be to see everything in bright colors instead of dark ones. He was so used to the shadows; would he be blinded by the mere sight of glowing colors? Francesco was so lost in his thoughts that he completely missed Lorenzo's happy facial expression turn into a horrified one. Then, out of the blue, everything faded to black.  
  
Francesco heard someone call his name a few times. He was dizzy. What had happened? He opened his eyes, but his vision was a bit blurred. The person who was calling him was in front of him... It was a man with curly short hair... Why was he being so loud? He was already awake. Couldn't he see that? Francesco brought a hand to his forehead. He hissed at the contact. It hurt. His head hurt.  
  
"What is going on?" Francesco asked dryly "And why are you being so loud for?"  
  
"That sounds like the Francesco I know! You are okay!" The man in front of him exclaimed. He sounded very relieved.  
  
Despite the pounding in his head, Francesco recognized that voice. He looked at the man again trying to focus his eyes on his face and to know if it was possible that he was that specific person. Of course he was. Francesco cursed internally. Of course it had to be Lorenzo de Medici. Great.  
  
"Are you sure you are okay?" Lorenzo asked again frowning in concern as he got a bit closer to Francesco. "You are not going to faint again, right?"  
  
"Wait, what? I fainted?" While he was saying those words, he noticed Lorenzo's hand on his shoulder. It had been there for a while, but only then his touch started to burn. He shook it off and he tried to get as far as he could from Lorenzo, which wasn't much. After all, he was laying on a sunbed.  
  
"Well, yeah..." Lorenzo scratched his neck with the same hand that had been on Francesco's skin moments earlier. The Pazzi could feel a lingering warm contact in his shoulder, despite knowing Lorenzo's hand wasn't there anymore. "We were playing with the ball, Bastiano slipped, because water got in his eyes. My fault, I splashed him. And, in consequence, he accidentally hit you in the head. Sorry about that. He didn't mean to." He wasn't even looking at Francesco anymore; his gaze was fixed on the floor. His face showed a mixture of regret and shame. "I'm truly sorry."  
  
"Why are you the only one here? I hoped at least Soderini had the decency to apologize." Francesco said scanning the water for Lorenzo's friends. They were nowhere to be found.  
  
"You see... I..." Francesco couldn't believe Lorenzo was struggling to find words. That hadn't happened in ages. Lorenzo always knew what to say, he didn't hesitate, not when talking was involved at least. "I told them I could handle this by myself and that it would be best if they weren't around. But, I'm also here because it's my fault." Then, Lorenzo finally looked at him in the face with those deep blue eyes of his. Francesco avoided his gaze at all costs. He knew those eyes were hypnotic. Lorenzo inhaled and continued speaking. "When you didn't shout angrily at them immediately, we knew something was wrong. I ru... We rushed to your side immediately and we found you unconscious. You should have seen Bastiano. He looked as if all the color from his skin had drained. He looked as white as a sheet of paper." Francesco would have liked to see that. "I told them that I would take care of you and that they needed to take Bastiano away from here, buy him a juice or something till he looked better. After all, I knew you wouldn't want to see many people around you when you woke up, or at very least not Giuliano." That was true and, also, very thoughtful of Lorenzo. "I looked where the ball hit you and there wasn't any visible damage, so it wasn't as serious as we could have thought. So, they did as I asked. After all, they had to trust me on my assessment. I'm the only one who did a first aid course."  
  
"Of course you have one of those silly courses!!" Francesco interrupted laughing a bit. "Is there something you haven't done yet?"  
  
Lorenzo was taken aback by Francesco's laughter. He didn't expect that. He expected him to be angry or at least annoyed. Francesco could have taken all this mess as a weakness display. Lorenzo knew how the other hated it. He presumed he would have been pissed, but he was laughing. That was good, more than good, actually.  
  
"What do you mean? There are lots of things I haven't done yet!" Lorenzo tried to make a list of them. He tried his best, but he couldn't even name one thing to save his life.  
  
"See what I mean now?" Francesco snickered. "You take lots of useless courses about random things that no one cares about, so you can be Mr. Perfect!" Then, it hit him. He shouldn't have said that. Why did he say that? A blush appeared on Francesco's cheeks. He didn't even mean as a compliment! Great.  
  
"They are not useless! I have saved you!" Lorenzo exclaimed ignoring the last part of Francesco's phrase. "You should be thanking me, Francesco, not making fun of me!"  
  
"Remind me why I needed saving on the first place?" Lorenzo's gaze fell to the sand again and his smile vanished. He even separated again from his sunbed. Congratulations Francesco you are an idiot. Francesco took a deep breath and got closer to Lorenzo to put his hand on Lorenzo's elbow, reassuring him. "Sorry, that was a dick move. I didn't mean to make you feel guilty." Lorenzo's eyes met his. The sea or the sky were nothing compared to those blue orbs. He could lose his mind trying to describe them, because no words made them justice. "Thank you..." He had been right, his eyes were hypnotic. Then, he leaned again on his sunbed, creating more space between them. "For taking care of me when I was unconscious." He mumbled to himself very quickly and hoping Lorenzo hadn't heard him.  
  
However, Lorenzo had heard him clearly. His face lit up and beamed again like he was the Sun. Too blinding for a man like Francesco. Where were his sunglasses when he needed them? He searched his surroundings but he didn't find them. Instead, what he saw was that Lorenzo had installed his towel next to his sunbed.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Francesco asked again.  
  
"I thought I had been clear about that already, Francesco." Lorenzo answered, confusion shown all over his face.  
  
"I mean the towel and all." Francesco said pointing at the Medici's stuff. Then, he saw his book lying on Lorenzo's towel. "Were you planning on giving me my book back?"  
  
"Oh yeah. Yeah! I just forgot about it. Sorry." Lorenzo returned the piece of literature to Francesco. But, when the other had it on his hands, he didn't loosen his grip on it. "There's another thing I have to give to you. Your sunglasses." Suddenly, he let go of the book and turned his back on Francesco. Mere seconds later, he was facing him again, but with the missing item broken to pieces on his hands.  
  
"You broke them! Your friend did this and you let him run away!" Francesco let out furiously. He liked those sunglasses. No, they were his favorite ones. They were a gift from his brother. "That's why you did it, right? So, he didn't get in trouble, because he's good. Because you knew I..."  
  
"I'm sorry, Francesco. I truly am." Lorenzo said interrupting his outburst." But you need to calm down." He put the broken pieces on his towel and stood up. He tried to make Francesco lie down again, he was altered and he had his right to be, but he shouldn't be chasing anyone anytime soon. He put his hands on Francesco's shoulders and forced him to his initial position. Doing this he ended up sitting on the sunbed beside him. "I know I can't fix them, but I'll try to make it right. I will give you mine." He got up and started searching in his backpack until he found them. Then, he returned by Francesco's side, but this time he was kneeling on his towel. "Here, take them. They are yours now."  
  
Francesco took them and examined them. When he was satisfied, he put them on. "They are not my style, but they are not half bad either." He was still angry, but he knew that Lorenzo was doing his best. "They will do, for the time being."  
  
"They look good on you though." Lorenzo said matter-of-factly and Francesco hoped the glasses hid his blush. "However, don't worry. I will buy you the same model as a replacement. I know they won't be the strictly the same sunglasses, but it's the least I can do."  
  
Francesco was glad to hear that, but he didn't show it. "Okay. Whatever. Now, let me read." He said instead as he opened his book where he had left off.  
  
Francesco tried to concentrate on the words he was supposed to be reading, but it was no use. Lorenzo's presence was distracting for some reason, so he started to think about the possible causes. Lorenzo was a bit annoying, he didn't need to stay by his side as if he was about to pass out again. Francesco was fine as he always was. Lorenzo didn't need to check up on him every two minutes. He noticed him run his deep blue eyes over his face looking for any kind of bad sign. The younger Pazzi was bothered by it, but not as he could have been. Francesco knew Lorenzo worried about everyone. It was his nature, it was who he was. Even if he told him he was alright, which he was, the older Medici wouldn't believe him completely. Lorenzo was too good for his own good, but it didn't mean he was stupid. In fact, it was the contrary and Francesco knew that very well. It hadn't been the first time that Lorenzo outwitted him in some financial strategy. Yes, Lorenzo worried about everyone's well-being and he always tried to do the right thing, even if it meant less profit for the Medici bank, but he was intelligent and clever. Maybe he was the most knowledgeable person Francesco knew that wasn't his own uncle. It was a shame that Francesco wasn't raised to care about the people. His uncle had one goal and one goal only: to win or to destroy the Medici bank. Francesco didn't consider himself a bad person because of that, but he knew he was not a good person either. Lorenzo was a lot of things that he wasn't, but at the same time Francesco was a lot of things that Lorenzo wasn't.  
  
Francesco dared to shoot a glance at Lorenzo. Thanks to him, he wore sunglasses again, which were the perfect tool to hide his eyes. Francesco had to admit that Lorenzo was good-looking. He was sure that more than half of Florence agreed on that. Maybe even almost all of Florence. He didn't need to pay much attention to know that the two girls, that were 15 meters away from their position, were daydreaming about having a conversation with the older Medici. Francesco wouldn't tell him. If he did, Lorenzo would probably go to talk to them, because he was like that, too kind. But, most of all Francesco wouldn't tell him because they weren't even friends. They were rivals! Lorenzo disagreed on that, for sure, and that was why he was with him, keeping him company, despite not asking for it. That's why he was within arm's reach, too close to him. If Francesco let his hand hang from his sunbed, he was sure he could brush against his toned back... Okay. That train of thought was a bit weird in Francesco's opinion. Was he attracted to the older Medici brother? That was silly. He had good taste for crying out loud! Maybe the blow in the head affected him more than he thought. Maybe if he slept all this nonsense would go away.  
  
Francesco closed his book softly and placed it in the free space near his knees. It seemed as if the world was against him. He wouldn't even advance five pages, if everything went on like this. Dismissing those thoughts and the previous ones too, he laid back without sparing a glance to his not-friend. He didn't need more absurd thoughts. He closed his eyes and let the darkness embrace him. He could clearly hear the sound of the waves as came and went repeatedly. The harmony of it all was soothing, like a sweet lullaby.  
  
Francesco stirred and started to open his eyes slowly. He felt something move under his touch. He was still half-asleep when he heard Lorenzo say "I'm going to the water for a bit. Continue sleeping I didn't want to wake you up." So, Francesco closed his eyes again, not because Lorenzo said it, but because he needed it. Finally, he drifted off thinking if he saw Lorenzo redder than usual or it was his imagination playing tricks on him.  
  
Lorenzo had been reading his poetry pocket book, when he saw that Francesco had fallen asleep. In order not to disturb him, he went back to his reading. A few minutes, later he felt something on his back. It was Francesco's hand. Lorenzo checked his friend's well-being. He worried he wasn't feeling okay, but he found his friend sound asleep. Lorenzo tried to pay more attention to the poetry in his hands than Francesco's fingers, which were starting to run down his back. They gave him soft unconscious caresses that sent shivers down his spine. Lorenzo had to check again if the culprit of those touches was awake, but he wasn't or, at least, it looked like he wasn't. Lorenzo couldn't tell. The sunglasses hid Francesco's chocolate brown eyes. Then, Lorenzo had the worst thought. What if Francesco was doing it on purpose to get a reaction out of him? He dismissed it almost immediately. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't risk doing something so intimate in public if he was conscious. The more Lorenzo thought about the fingers traveling his back, the redder his face and his neck became. He needed to get out of there and fast. The water seemed a good place to cool his face down. So, he got up, but he woke Francesco up in the process. He tried to make him go back to sleep, assuring him everything was fine and then, Lorenzo ran to the sea. When the salty water hit his skin, it had a bearable temperature. He dived in, but even underwater he could still feel the warm trails his friend left.  
  
It had been a while since Lorenzo entered the water. The colour of his face and neck was back to normal. He could feel it, they weren't burning anymore. He couldn't say the same about his spine though. He hadn't stopped thinking about it. About those innocent touches he longed for. About those sweet caresses he wished were real. Lorenzo had a big problem and its name was Francesco Pazzi. Well, to be completely honest, it was the feelings Lorenzo had for him, not Francesco himself. The older Medici had been harboring them since they were little, but he never found the courage to tell Francesco. They had been best friends in the world when they were little, but, then, for some reason Lorenzo couldn't grasp, they weren't anymore. Francesco insisted on believing that, but that wasn't the case for him. The younger Pazzi had always been his friend and he would always be. A friend he had feelings for, but a friend nonetheless.  
  
Francesco woke up again feeling refreshed and well-rested for a change. He was sure he hadn't slept that much, but it seemed it was enough for his head to stop aching. The first thing he noticed when he regained consciousness was that his hand was hanging from the edge of the sunbed. He should have been uncomfortable in that position, but he hadn't been, so he was glad he didn't wake up because his arm cramped. That would have been irritating. Francesco could touch Lorenzo's towel, it was soft. He let his fingers caress the material. Lorenzo had good taste, but this fact wasn't anything new to Francesco. Wait, if the towel was empty, where did Lorenzo go? Francesco didn't know exactly why, but he reached with his hand as far as he could. What did he expect to find? Lorenzo's arm? His back? Francesco already knew he wasn't there, but he still reached for him. However, instead of his not-so-friend, he found his poetry book. He grabbed it and brought it back to him. He examined cautiously the cover: love poems. Francesco knew Lorenzo was a nerd, he had always been, but he was also a hopeless romantic. The Pazzi laughed fondly at the memory of catching Lorenzo reciting poems in his room when they were kids. Some things never changed.  
  
Francesco opened the book for the first page, curious about what embarrassing things Lorenzo had been reading. He turned three or four pages and, to his amusement, all poems were sappy. He could picture Lorenzo with tears in the corner of his eyes after reading a couple of verses. After his funny mental image of a deeply moved Lorenzo, he turned one more page. Some black scribbles at the top of the page caught his attention. Francesco removed his sunglasses and he put them on top of his head in order to see them more clearly. He recognized Lorenzo's handwriting. The nerd had little notes here and there. A smile grazed Francesco's lips. He couldn't wait to tease Lorenzo about it. He would be so embarrassed! So, Francesco started reading exclusively the aspiring poet's annotations.  
  
Most of them were ideas for improving the feeling of a certain poem, names of classical myths and brief descriptions of nature, but, once in a while, there were details of a person. Francesco was intrigued. If he discovered who that person was, he would be able to tease Lorenzo forever! So, he tried to keep a mental list of the characteristics of that mysterious person. They had brown eyes as if they had been carved from the oldest tree in the forest. Their hair was like a river: turbid, sinuous, but beautiful. Francesco laughed at the image of Lorenzo describing himself as a sailor who would prefer to drown in that river than never be able to sail it. Whoever that person was, Lorenzo had an obvious crush on them. He also described them as the Moon, unreachable but worthy of every try. He also said they knew each other from a long time and that both of them had changed since then. After going over the list of qualities thrice, Francesco reached a conclusion. He had a pretty solid idea of who was the receiver of Lorenzo's affections. Judging by those notes and what Francesco knew, they could only be Lucrezia Donati. It was understood that at some point Lorenzo fell for her, but she already had a boyfriend, so everyone thought he gave up. Was he still in love with her? It had been years... How was he not over her? They were friends and nothing more, he had to accept that. The sooner he did that, the sooner he would heal. Now that Francesco knew the truth, maybe he wouldn't tease Lorenzo as much as he thought. Was he feeling sorry for that loser? No, not in a million years. There was something else that was bothering him, but he couldn't place it. He wasn't able to describe it either. He never had a natural talent with words, unlike Lorenzo. The younger Pazzi always felt things but, because he couldn't explain them, he tried not to express them externally.  
  
Lorenzo had just emerged from another refreshing dive, when he saw that Francesco was awake and reading. Everything was fine, until he noticed Francesco wasn't reading his own book, but his poetry book. If his friend discovered the little pencil notes he had on some pages and most importantly who they were referring to, Lorenzo would never hear the end of it. He had to avoid that outcome at all costs, so he ran to the other banker as fast as he could. Getting out of the water was the hardest part, he was slower there and made a lot of noise. However, Francesco was either lost in thought or very focused on reading, because he didn't acknowledge Lorenzo's presence until he tried to snatch his book back. Francesco instinctively refused to let go of it and, instead, he pulled it towards him rather strongly. With all this commotion, the book ended up flat and face down on Francesco's chest, despite the fact that both boys were still holding it. In consequence, Lorenzo found himself bending over Francesco. Suddenly, he was very aware of the small space between them. Pink was starting to spread on his cheeks. He needed to say something and fast!  
  
"Can I have my book back, please?" Okay. That was lame.  
  
"Why? Is there something you don't want me to see?" Francesco answered with his characteristic smirk on his face. He smiled with only half of his mouth. Lorenzo loved when he did that, but now he didn't know what to say back! It was distracting him! "Anyway, I already saw your little notes." Lorenzo became still as a classic marble statue he liked to admire so much. His fears had come true. "You really outdid yourself in some of them. I must congratulate you."  
  
Lorenzo was very embarrassed and confused. Not only did Francesco read his annotations about him, but he also nonchalantly told him he liked them. Lorenzo was sure his neck and ears were completely red. He had been careless. He shouldn't have left his book on his towel. He should have put it back in his bag. Well, it didn't matter anymore. It was too late. Lorenzo averted his gaze and focused on the water that was dripping from his arm. Little drops fell from his skin to Francesco's torso. He didn't seem to mind. He was busy making him suffer. But now that Lorenzo thought about it, his book was getting wet! The problem was that neither of them would let go of it.  
  
"They are for Lucrezia Donati, aren't they?" Lorenzo came back to reality. Francesco hadn't realized they were for him. He thought he was writing about someone else. Lorenzo's mortification disappeared almost completely. He had an idea.  
  
"Would you mind if they were?" Lorenzo asked with his most irresistible smile. Now, it was Francesco's turn to blush. His plan to distract Francesco was working better than he expected.  
  
"Nonsense." His friend muttered. "Why would I?" Lorenzo could see he was very flustered for some reason. His grip on the book wasn't as strong as before. Good.  
  
"I don't know. You'll have to tell me, Francesco." He said as he got an inch closer. Francesco couldn't even look at him in the face.  
  
Lorenzo took his chance in that exact instant: he snatched his book and he let it fall on his towel, far from Francesco's reach. Lorenzo got what he came for, but he couldn't separate himself. On the contrary, he only wanted to get closer. It was like being pulled by gravity. He was drawn to that beautiful boy in front of him. However, the Medici knew that the more you let gravity affect you; the hardest would be the fall.  
  
Francesco turned his head in that precise moment. He was about to say something mean, probably, but his words died on his mouth. He was caught in those blue eyes that put sapphires to shame. He fell again in their hypnotic trap. Were they getting closer or was he? He couldn't tell. The colorful light of those azure gems was too distracting. He also felt a kind of warmth he hadn't felt before. It was soothing. To a point that he couldn't help fluttering his eyes closed. Even in the darkness he could still feel the magnetic pull of his eyes. Lorenzo, on the other hand, had stopped moving. He could feel Francesco's breath almost as if it was his own. He had closed his eyes, waiting for something to happen. He let his guard down in front of him. That didn't happen very often. In fact, Lorenzo wasn't sure if he had ever seen it before. He couldn't help himself; he engraved Francesco's trouble-free face in his memory. He was breathtakingly handsome. Lorenzo wanted to close the little space between them, but he had one doubt. Was this a product of Francesco's blow on the head? Lorenzo hesitated for a few seconds, but they were enough for Francesco's eyes to open slowly once again. There wasn't any trace of the pink that had stained his cheeks earlier. The magic spell was broken. He was putting space between them again. It felt like if they were miles away. Lorenzo could feel the soft summer breeze brush his face again, but he wished he couldn't. He had his chance and he missed it completely.  
  
"Francesco... I..." Lorenzo trailed off. He wanted to explain himself and make everything right, but words were stuck in his throat unable to get out. "Look, I..." Then, out of the blue, his phone started ringing. "I have to take it. I'm sorry." He added immediately regretting being incapable of using his silver tongue on Francesco.  
  
Lorenzo felt guilty. He didn't want to leave the conversation there. But, at the same time, he felt somewhat relieved. He could escape from the awkward atmosphere that was starting to form between them. Lorenzo grabbed his phone and saw the caller ID: Giuliano. He answered and stepped away from the big beach umbrella. He was pretty sure Francesco wouldn't be amused if he stayed. That thought alone made his heart sink.  
  
Francesco saw Lorenzo talking with whoever had called him. His annoying dumb brother perhaps. Due to the fact that he was a few meters away, he couldn't hear what the Medici was saying, but he didn't care. Not after what had happened. Well, he wanted to know exactly what had happened between them and why. Did they have a moment? Was Lorenzo about to kiss him? Or more importantly, was he about to kiss Lorenzo? He was his rival! Francesco could consider him his enemy! Then, why did he close his eyes? Why was he disappointed? Francesco took a deep breath. He let the air fill his lungs. He held it in for a couple of seconds and then he let it go. If he wanted to understand the current situation, he would need to go little by little. The love poems had been the cause of it all. If Lorenzo didn't want him to see them, he should have kept the book inside his backpack! Then, when Lorenzo had come back to retrieve his stupid poetry book, he had been nervous until he had asked him if he minded about the poems being for Lucrezia. That single suggestion had thrown Francesco off balance. After that, Lorenzo had asked him to explain him why he cared, despite not having answered that. Had Lorenzo been flirting or had he been his usual curious self? Then, they had the moment. I had been real. It had happened. There was no denying that. They had almost kissed! He had almost kissed Lorenzo. What was wrong with him?! People didn't kiss their banking enemies!  
  
It was in that precise instant that Lorenzo returned to his towel. He didn't look as cheerful as always, but he tried to mask it as best as he could. But, if Francesco could see through it, it meant Lorenzo wasn't doing a very good job at it. There was also the matter of the awkwardness that had settled under the beach umbrella. It was weird and almost unbearable. Francesco wouldn't be able to concentrate if he stayed there.  
  
"I'm going for a swim." Francesco said coldly as soon as Lorenzo sat down. Then, he stood up and left him there. He could feel Lorenzo's eyes on his back as he stepped away, but Francesco refused to look back.  
  
The heir to Pazzi bank did as he said. He dived into the water without hesitation. Swimming always helped clearing his mind, but this time his mind was filled with questions. If Lorenzo had written those lines for Lucrezia, why did he almost kiss him? He was in love with her, wasn't he? Then, why did he do it? Could he be messing with him? No, that wasn't a thing Lorenzo would do. Then, why did he almost kiss him if he liked Lucrezia? Unless, those unfinished poems weren't for her. That possibility raised another question, who else could they be for? Lucrezia was the obvious option. Everyone knew Lorenzo had had a big crush on her, to the point of secondhand embarrassment in Francesco's opinion. It was ridiculous that Lorenzo wasn't over her after all these years. It couldn't be anyone else, right? Lucrezia was the only person who fit the description: brown wavy hair, brown eyes, she had a boyfriend, they knew each other since they were kids... But, what about the Moon part? Perhaps Lorenzo saw her like that, but Francesco had always thought that the Medici saw her as a star alone in the night sky. The Moon metaphor didn't make sense, unless it wasn't referring to Lucrezia Donati or maybe Francesco didn't know Lorenzo as he once did.  
  
When they were kids they had always been together. After all, they had been best friends. Lorenzo had always been a cheerful and happy boy to the point of envy. He never had the problems that Francesco faced since the death of his parents. Lorenzo always smiled and he saw the good in people or in life, whereas Francesco could not do any of those things. Lorenzo had always shined like the Sun, but nowadays he shined even brighter. The only missing thing was the sparkles all around him. Francesco, on the other hand, preferred to be practical and grounded. Others called him pessimistic, but he preferred to call himself realistic. Life was cruel and he saw that clearly. Because of this, he saw himself and Lorenzo as black and white. How could they have been friends all those years ago? It seemed impossible. They were like day and night, water and oil, heads and tails, the Sun and the Moon...  
  
Realization hit Francesco like a brick. It couldn't be. No. Impossible. No, no, no. Lorenzo wasn't... He couldn't... That was ridiculous, but then again Lorenzo was ridiculous. Francesco fitted the description of the mysterious person perfectly, Moon metaphor included. Those poems were talking about him! That explained Lorenzo's previous behavior too. Unbelievable. Lorenzo was even cheesier than he expected. However, even if it pained Francesco to admit it, he had a natural talent for poetry. He wouldn't tell him that of course. Francesco was touched by his words, now that he knew they were for him, but he wouldn't tell him that either. He also felt a bit embarrassed and, surprisingly, he wasn't angry at all. He felt a warm sensation fill his chest and he was sure pink was spreading across his cheeks. Great, now he was being ridiculous too. And all of it was Lorenzo's fault. Lorenzo shouldn't write those things about his rival. It was embarrassing!  
  
Francesco swam a bit more wishing that, when he got back to his sunbed, the red on his face and ears could pass as sign of exercising. As he was getting out of the water, he spotted Lorenzo on the shore. The Medici wasn't his usual self, Francesco could tell that much. Something about him felt different. He was looking at him with a sad little smile while he played with the wed sand with his toes. Francesco could tell the difference between the usual smiles, the happy ones (the corner of his lips almost reached his ears), the fake ones (his eyes didn't show as much emotion), even the rare sad ones (he didn't like those). The sight of him like this made Francesco feel guilty. It was partly his fault. He had run away without explaining himself. But, he hadn't known anything then! Now, he had an idea of what feelings hid inside Lorenzo's chest. However, he couldn't put to words everything that was going on inside of him.  
  
When Francesco was in hearing range, Lorenzo called his name and waved at him signaling him to come where he was. "Francesco! I need to speak with you."  
  
"Coming." The other answered as he got closer. When he stopped, the distance between them was the usual. But, there was nothing usual about their current situation. It was awkward. "What do you want to tell me?"  
  
"I..." Lorenzo scratched the back of his neck. He wasn't looking directly at him. "I have to go home." Francesco opened his mouth to say something, but he didn't know exactly what. So, Lorenzo, oblivious to it, went on talking. "Giuliano just phoned me. They are preparing something to make Bastiano relax or just forget about the incident. I don't know exactly what Giuliano has in mind, but he asked me to go back, so I could help him and Sandro, whereas Angelo keeps Bastiano busy. And, since you are feeling better and all, I thought it was best if I left now. I don't want to bother you more than I already have today, Francesco. You had to bear with me all this time, I won't annoy you further." Every word that escaped Lorenzo's mouth pained him. He didn't want to leave, but the phone call was the perfect excuse to avoid further damage to his friendship with Francesco. "Francesco, please, believe me when I say that I'm truly sorry about the accident today..." This time Lorenzo looked at those irresistible chocolate brown eyes that were looking at him questioningly.  
  
"I know." Francesco interrupted him. "You have apologized before, remember?"  
  
"I want you to know that I mean it, Francesco." Lorenzo was about to put his hand on Francesco's shoulder as he said that, but he changed his mind in the middle of the gesture and his hand ended up on his own chest, over his heart.  
  
"You Medici always mean whatever words exit your mouth." Francesco regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. In consequence, he tried to redirect the conversation to the topic he wanted to address. "What I meant is that I know." Lorenzo didn't seem to get what he was referring to. "I know that you mean it, but I also know everything else." Lorenzo blinked in confusion.  
  
"What do you mean?" Lorenzo asked genuinely. He didn't understand and it was written all over his face. It was adorable.  
  
"Don't play dumb. You know what I mean, Lorenzo." Francesco said with his trademark smirk. He had the upper hand now and he was enjoying it. "Your little secret." Lorenzo gulped in response.  
  
"Francesco, I..."  
  
In that exact moment a giant wave washed over them. Both boys fell flat to the sand, because of the impact. Luckily or unluckily, be as it may, Francesco landed face forward on top of Lorenzo, who was still recovering from the blow. Suddenly, Francesco was very aware of their current situation. His skin burned where it was in contact with Lorenzo's. Almost all his body felt like if he was on fire. He could even trace his toned silhouette if he pleased. The familiar warm feeling filled his body once again, which probably stained faintly his cheeks with the color red. Lorenzo groaned and lifted his face to see the state his friend was in. He could tell that Lorenzo was relieved to see him conscious. Then, his hypnotic azure eyes met Francesco's once again. This time he couldn't look away. He let himself get lost in them. They were the mirror of Lorenzo's soul: bright and beautiful. He wanted to be able to see in that way too. Those shimmering eyes spoke to him in a way he could not describe. They drew him in even closer than he already was. The heat inside his chest was becoming hotter and spreading to his stomach and the rest of his body. Francesco felt as if he was about to combust internally and externally. He was glad that cool waves periodically washed his legs and, in consequence, Lorenzo's too. He couldn't control whatever was going on inside of him, but he blamed the magnetic attraction of Lorenzo's eyes.  
  
"Are you ok..." Lorenzo never finished that question, because he was interrupted by Francesco himself. Well, Francesco's lips on his to be more precise.  
  
Lorenzo couldn't believe it. It was happening and it was real. Francesco was kissing him. It wasn't a product of his blow in the head. It was because Francesco wanted it or, more exactly, wanted him. Francesco liked him back! After all this time! He wasn't imagining any of it! Francesco was kissing him out of his free will! Lorenzo's brain was overheating with excitement, but that didn't make him lose any more time. So, he responded to the kiss with everything he got. He had been waiting for this moment since forever. So, he let himself enjoy it. Francesco's right hand had traveled to the back of Lorenzo's neck and had remained there, whereas his left was on his shoulder to steady him. Lorenzo's hands ran through Francesco's spine until his left stayed in his lower back and his right cupped his face. Lorenzo didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss. He wanted to have better access to the other's mouth and, apparently, so did Francesco. Lorenzo had never thought that Francesco had such a fiery passion inside of him. He didn't usually show much of his affections, unless they were for his brother. His uncle made him believe they were a show of weakness, which he shouldn't display in front of anyone. So, being able not to only get a grasp of what Francesco felt firsthand, but also feeling it at the same time, was the best gift Lorenzo could have asked for. The kiss had become more intense than he had anticipated. Both of their hearts were drumming like crazy and, because they were pressed together, they could feel each other's accelerated heartbeat as if it was their own. Francesco was kissing him as if he was trying to calm a hunger he didn't know he had.

Lorenzo wished he didn't need air, so their first kiss would never end, but his lungs had been asking for oxygen for a while. So, he started to separate himself from Francesco as gently as he could. However, Francesco instinctively followed him refusing to let go and put their kiss to an end, but Lorenzo stopped him softly, his hand still on his face. It was clear from their heavy breathing that both of them needed air.  
  
Lorenzo took a moment to look at Francesco. He was breathtaking, no pun intended. His hair was disheveled and wet, his parted lips were red and a bit swollen from the kiss, his cheeks hid a rosy color and his wooden brown eyes were analyzing his reaction. Lorenzo caressed his cheek with delicate and soft movements. Francesco leaned in to the touch almost immediately. Lorenzo couldn't help looking at him with the most lovesick gaze Francesco had ever seen. If he was a cartoon he would have hearts floating all around him. Lorenzo wished they could stay in this intimate moment forever, where nothing else existed but them.  
  
"Well? Aren't you going to say something?" Francesco asked with a little smirk, but without any malice in his voice.  
  
"To be completely honest," Lorenzo started saying after a couple of seconds of silence. "I never expected you to kiss me like in 'From here to eternity', but I'm glad you did." He beamed at him with his happiest smile.  
  
"You are such a nerd!" Francesco added, despite his heart skipping a beat.  
  
"But you love it!" Touché.  
  
"Sadly, it seems like I do." Francesco admitted with a faint smile. "But, please keep your poems to yourself, they are embarrassing to read!"  
  
Lorenzo remained silent for a moment, thinking. Francesco worried he had crossed a line he shouldn't have and had ruined everything. However, Lorenzo cleared up his doubts when he spoke again.  
  
"Oh you wound me, Francesco." Lorenzo exaggerated dramatically. He even put his hand over his forehead. "Every night, I will recite them under your window until you accept my feelings, oh my dear."  
  
"Whatever you are doing it's not working." Francesco lied. He was blushing again, partly from secondhand embarrassment of imagining Lorenzo doing what he said, but also because Lorenzo was capable of doing that.  
  
"Of course it is, after all, I'm Mr. Perfect, right?" Lorenzo winked at him. He knew what he was doing and Francesco didn't like that. "You called me that before, remember? Your words not mine." He winked at him again, but this time biting his lip.  
  
"Oh, shut up!" Francesco exclaimed mortified with his face red as a tomato.  
  
"As you wish." And Lorenzo swiftly kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Kael-san did a stunning [fanart](https://kael-san.tumblr.com/post/188027888518/two-drawings-based-on-gilbird14-s-fic-drowning) based on this fic! I'm in awe!! 
> 
> Please check Kael-san's tumblr and give them some love <3


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